


Your Name on My Wrist (Analogical)

by mt_reade



Series: Sanders Sides Short Stories! [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Morality | Patton Sanders is a Sweetheart, Patton’s a good dad, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, The twins are the best big brothers, okay but hear me out with the soulmate thing I might surprise you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23889700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mt_reade/pseuds/mt_reade
Summary: A Soulmate!AU where the name of your soulmate is inked on the inside of your left wrist when you’re a baby.I’ve been thinking about soulmate canons non-stop, and I wanted to do something a bit different with it, so here. :)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders & Dr. Emile Picani, Morality | Patton Sanders/Dr. Emile Picani
Series: Sanders Sides Short Stories! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1721833
Comments: 31
Kudos: 198





	Your Name on My Wrist (Analogical)

There's the sound of a car door slamming, and light up sketchers hitting the pavement. They glow with dancing purples, pinks, and cotton candy blues along the soles, as the shoes that were once white patter along the pavement. Now they're dirtied from playing outside, and being loved to their fullest. There's the sight of a scab on a knee, from falling off the swingset two days before. The tears from the injury are long gone now, and by the end of the day, there will be plenty more scrapes to keep this one company. Children are ruthless like that.

This one doesn't mean to be ruthless, though. This child wears quiet lilac overalls that are rolled up above the knee, over a white T-Shirt that will have crayon on all over it by the time it's worn home. First days of school change a lot about a kid, and this one is no exception.

There's the shape of a star on the child's right cheek, just below the eye. It had been painted on with glitter glue in a moment of sibling bonding, where the older brothers had attempted face paint, and needed a model. When the twins, Roman and Remus, had finished with their little sibling, their artwork was a whole face covered in flowers and squiggles that were apparently, according to them, _supposed_ to be dragons. Luckily, all of that had come off with a good scrubbing with a facecloth. But the purple glitter glue star clung on like a tattoo. A guardian angel to watch over this young one during her first day of first grade.

Speaking of the twins, they push past their little sister, sprinting towards the playground to reunite with their friends. They're going into fourth grade today, and they're officially too cool to hug their father goodbye. They shout farewells over their shoulders as they scamper away, and their father laughs as he climbs out of the car.

"Stay out of trouble, you two!" Patton calls after them, as he steps onto the sidewalk.

Patton catches sight of his daughter, who looks terrified. She's staring up at the school building like it's the monster from her closet, and she's clutching her stuffed Eeyore plushie to her chest nervously. Patton crouches down beside her, and puts a hand on her tiny shoulder.

"You know Nessie, I was scared on my first day of school, too."

Vanessa looks up at her father, her pixie cut blowing around a bit in the morning breeze. "Yeah?"

He nods, smiling at her fondly. "Yep. I was terrified. I had to take the bus to school all by myself, and I was so scared. But, when I got to school, I met some of my best friends ever. I had so much fun, it was better than I ever imagined. By the end of the day, I didn't want to leave!" Patton squeezes her shoulder encouragingly, and lowers his voice as if to tell her a secret. "I met your dad on my first day of school, you know."

"Really?" Vanessa's eyes light up at that.

Patton nods, eyes equally as bright. He holds out his left hand in front of him, palm upwards, so that they both can see the name _Emile_ written on it in beautiful loopy cursive writing. The same writing that everyone has on their wrist, inked onto them the day they're born by a Matchmaker, an algorithm coded machine that can calculate your exact match. Your soulmate.

"I met him in the lunchroom. He sat across from me." Patton explains. "So, you never know. Maybe your soulmate is in there somewhere?" He suggests. Vanessa looks down at her own left wrist, which has a name on it, too. She can't read it, of course. She's only six. But her parents had told her what it says many times, and she has it ingrained into memory.

_Logan_

Vanessa still looks nervous, but a little consoled now. Maybe even a little bit of excitement is held in the chest pocket of her overalls.

"Don't forget, even if you get lonely, that my love is always with you. Always and forever."

The bell rings, and Patton stands, crossing over to the trunk of the car. He pops it open, and pulls out a tiny backpack. He helps his daughter pull it on, holding out the arm straps for her as she slides her arms through. The bag is still a bit big for her, and it bounces against the backs of her legs when she walks, but she likes it a lot.

"Okay, Nessie, time to go. Would you like me to walk you in?"

There's a shy nod in response.

"Okay, kiddo, let's go show that school who's boss!" Patton takes her small hand in his own, and together, they walk into the school building.

\--

The first day of school comes and goes, and sadly, Logan doesn't end up coming to sit with her at lunch. Logan isn't even in her school, as far as Vanessa can tell. But that's okay, she enjoys the colouring they do in the morning, it's relaxing, and she likes to mix the colours. She doesn't really talk to anyone, she's too shy. But, she's able to find her big brothers at recess, and they very graciously allow her to play the baby in their game of house with their friends and them. So, even without meeting her soulmate, Vanessa's first day goes better than she thought it would.

Patton can tell by the way she acts at dinner. The twins are recounting adventures and anecdotes, shouting over each other because the other is "telling it wrong." Vanessa is quiet, as she usually is, but she has a big smile on her face.

\--

It's late April, and Vanessa has made a second home of her schoolhouse. Her classroom is her new bedroom, and her teacher is her mother away from home. Not that she has a mother at home, but she's like a third parent to Vanessa.

Vanessa has learned the names of everyone in her grade. She doesn't talk much, and she sits at the back of the room most of the time. It's a good place to observe. Even if she's not friends with any of them, and her classmates sometimes don't remember that she's in their class at all, Vanessa remembers them. Maybe one day, she'll work up the courage to ask to sit with one of them.

But, today there's someone new sitting beside her. Someone that she doesn't recognize. He has dark hair, that's cut neatly and well-kept. The way he's dressed reminds Vanessa of her father, Emile, with the bright blue tie that he's wearing. The little boy also has glasses, which are too big for him, and he keeps having to push them back up his nose. His shoes are also sneakers, but they're not run down like Vanessa's own. They're black and clean, and their white laces are tied sloppily, and it occurs to Vanessa that he might have tied them himself.

That's _so cool_.

Vanessa keeps a close and curious eye on him until the bell rings, because her colouring no longer seems that interesting. Maybe this is because she realizes that the boy is reading. Actually reading. Not with an adult looking over his shoulder, but entirely on his own. At first she wonders if he's just looking at the pictures, but as she watches his finger track his place down the page, she gathers that this isn't the case at all. She doesn't know anyone in her grade that can read. At least not without some sort of help.

She's fascinated. She watches him turn page after page, eyes never faltering.

"What are you reading?" The words are out of her mouth before she even decides she wants to say them. They're quiet, but the boy seems to hear her. He looks up at her, finger pausing on the page. He looks a bit surprised that she's talking to him.

"It's called ' _The Boy Who Cried Wolf_.'" The boy says. He's got a bit of a lisp, but other than that, his speech is flawless. He even got the "r" in "cried".

Vanessa doesn't know what reading level that book is, but it sounds hard. She's about to muster up the courage to ask what it's about, when the bell rings into the classroom, strong as a blockade.

The boy returns to reading, and Vanessa decides it's better not to interrupt him again. She hates interrupting people. It makes her stomach feel tight and her head goes all swimmy. Especially since she knows that interrupting is rude, and sometimes when she does it people yell at her, which makes her eyes extra wet. Sometimes the wetness flows down her cheeks, too.

So instead of talking to him, Vanessa just watches on in silent awe as he flips another page. The boy reads that one in record time, and Vanessa just can't tear her eyes away. She notices how the boy sticks his tongue out a bit when he gets stuck on a word, as he's thinking really hard about it. She knows he's stuck, because his tracking finger will pause. She thinks it's rather funny, and she stifles a giggle so that she won't get in trouble for interrupting attendance.

After attendance is over, the teacher gets the class' attention.

"Today we're going to be working on science, so everyone get out your _green_ books please."

There's a cacophony of rustling papers and clattering pencils as the students shuffle around in their seats, pulling out their green notebooks from their bags. There's the more occasional whisper of someone asking their friend for a writing utensil, or some showing off how nice their pen grip has gotten, because they've been practicing. While this is happening, the teacher speaks again.

"Now, I have an exciting announcement." The teacher pauses, and looks to a student in the front row. "Sarah, no talking while I'm talking please. Thank you." She turns to the larger collection of children once more. "We have a new student in our class today! Isn't that exciting? Would you like to come up to the front of the class and introduce yourself?"

This is not new news to Vanessa, as she's already figured that much out. She, and a couple of others, look to the boy in the tie who's sitting beside her. He looks mortified, and like there's not a single thing in the world that he'd like to do _less_ than doing as his teacher asks. But, there seems to not really be much room for debate in the request, because the teacher is now holding out her hand towards the boy expectantly. One by one, each kid in the class turns to look at the boy, following their teacher's gaze. Vanessa feels bad for him as she watches him flush pink at the cheeks, with his eyes wide with horror.

He looks anywhere but at the faces of his new classmates as he slowly stands, and shuffles to the front of the room. His book remains open on his desk.

The teacher either doesn't notice his discomfort, or ignores it, as her smile only warms as he approaches. The boy reaches her side, and turns around to face his peers, eyes trained on his shoes.

"Hello." He says, voice much quieter than it was when he'd spoken to Vanessa. "My family just moved here, so that's why I'm here."

"Where did you live before?" The teacher encourages.

"Winslow. It's small, but we have big backyards there."

"That's neat! Did you like playing in your backyard?"

The boy shakes his head. "No."

"...What _do_ you like to do, then?"

"I like to read."

"Reading is fun! I like to read too." The teacher looks out to the class. "How many of you like to read, or have your parents read you stories?"

A wave of hands rise from the sea of students, Vanessa's included, but hers is much lower than the others.

"Look at that! Thank you, you can put your hands down." The teacher says. "Carlos, pencils go on paper, not in your nose please. Thank you."

She turns back to the boy beside her, who's gradually inching back towards his chair. "Now, what's your name, young man?"

"...Logan."

Vanessa almost falls right out of her chair. She's staring at him now, eyes wide, and suddenly her stomach feels very queasy. Like she's going to throw up, but... almost in a good way. Her eyes fall to his left wrist, wondering if she can see it from here, as she grabs her own wrist with her other hand. Logan is a common name, she knows that. One of her dad's favourite TV characters is named Logan. But, of course, she jumps to a specific conclusion, as any child would.

\--

Logan is eating his lunch in the cafeteria. He's reading again. He's already finished his book, _The Boy Who Cried Wolf_ , but he wants to keep reading, so he's started it over. He swings his legs a bit under the table, and he holds his salami sandwich in one hand as he tracks his progress down the page with the other. He has to do that, otherwise he tends to lose his place. He's about halfway through the story when--

"Hi, um, 'scuse me?" A voice, barely audible over the lunchroom chatter, asks.

Logan looks up, and sees that it's the little girl from earlier. The one who he'd talked to briefly this morning. She's wearing a purple turtleneck and leggings, and she's holding a brown paper lunch bag in one hand, and a stuffie that looks like that blue donkey from Winnie the Pooh in the other. She's standing across the table from him, and looking rather bashful.

"Yeah?" Logan asks, pulling his hand from his place on the page, and closing his book.

"I-I'm Vanessa." She says, rocking back and forth on her heels. She speaks quickly, trying to get it over with as fast as possible. Or maybe she's worried that she's bothering him. Or maybe, it's both. "Sorry if this's weird, but my soulmate's name is Logan too. I was just thinking if maybe...?" She drifts off, and she glances down at Logan's left hand, which is now resting face down on top of his book's cover.

Oh.

Logan shakes his head, feeling a little guilty. "No, I'm sorry. Mine's a boy's name."

"Oh, okay." She sounds a bit disappointed, and turns to leave.

"Wait!" Logan stops her. "You can stay, if you want." He offers, pointing to the seat across from his, hopeful.

"...Okay."

\--

The two are quick to become friends. Best friends, even. It's almost impossible to see just how well the two of them click together, like neighbour puzzle pieces. They start hanging out at recess too, where they'll sit together under the large oak tree in the far corner of the field, and Logan will tell Vanessa all about the story that he's reading, and Vanessa will listen intently. Or, sometimes Vanessa will be the one to share, bringing out her well-loved box of crayons, and they'll draw side by side. Vanessa is much better at it than Logan, but neither seems to care.

When the teacher announces that they're going to be building an animal habitat out of a shoebox, plasticine, and plastic animal toys, the two are quick to reach each other as partners. They spend hours working on it at Vanessa's kitchen table. Patton makes them snacks, and Emile does his best to keep Roman and Remus out of their way. The afternoon is filled with giggles, and Logan goes home with a tummy full of cookies, and clay in his hair. Logan is the one who does most of the talking when they present their model, but Vanessa is the one who drew the backdrop for their shoebox habitat, and she's more than happy to just hold it, and listen to Logan talk about zebras with incredible enthusiasm.

Logan is the one who eventually teaches Vanessa to tie her shoes in early June. Vanessa cries when they say goodbye for the summer.

They learn a lot about each other in second grade.

Logan learns that Vanessa knows all of the words to the Scooby-Doo theme song, and that she wakes up early every Sunday to watch the show with her brothers. He learns that she doesn't like wearing skirts like other girls, and that she only likes to use bubblegum flavoured toothpaste. He learns that her favourite thing on the playground is the swings, but she hates the monkey bars because she's terrified of heights.

Vanessa learns that Logan sleeps with a stuffed animal still, but it's a secret. She learns that his biggest dream is to read _Pride and Prejudice_ , and she doesn't even know what those words _mean_. She learns later that neither does Logan. She learns that he refuses to let his food touch on his plate. He won't even put ketchup on his french fries. She learns that he gets really angry when his socks get wet in the hallways, because he followed the rules and took his winter boots off at the door like you're _supposed_ to.

Over the years, their friendship continues to grow, just as they do. But, neither ever forgets the fond memories that they make as little kids. They often reminisce about them at sleepovers in junior high. They grow ever closer as the summers blend together, and by the time that they're in high school, they don't even knock on each other's front doors before they come inside. They know that they're more than welcome.

But of course, some things never change. Vanessa still loves to draw, and Logan still sticks his tongue out just a little when he's thinking.

\--

"Hey, kiddo." Patton says, knocking on his daughter's open door before entering. "You've been up here a while, are you okay?"

Vanessa is sitting in front of her vanity. A vanity seems like the wrong word for it, because the desk and mirror aren't vain in the slightest. They're simple and shaded, and blend right in with the darkly-painted walls. And, Vanessa herself feels anything but vain when she sits before it. She's been staring at herself for hours, just thinking. She's wearing one of her father's sweaters, which is too big and drowns her into a shapeless blob. She steals them a lot. They're comforting, she thinks, and being a shapeless blob feels much better than being herself.

Her eyes are scouring over herself, the embodiment of hatred glaring at her in the mirror.

"Nessie?" Patton asks, sounding worried.

Vanessa can see her father behind her in the mirror. He's watching her with concern visible behind his glasses.

"Hi Dad." She says, her voice wrecked. She winces. She hates how it always gives away when she's been crying.

"Kiddo--"

"I'm fine." She cuts him off, screwing her eyes shut so that she can't see the look of pain on her father's face. She couldn't bear to see that. 

Patton doesn't argue, and he's silent for a while. Long enough that Vanessa wonders if he's left. She almost opens her eyes again, but before she can, a pair of warm, welcoming, caring arms encircle her shoulders. Enveloping her into an awkward embrace from behind. Patton leans his head atop his daughter's own, and when Vanessa does open her eyes, they meet Patton's gaze in the mirror. "It's okay." He says. "I've got you."

That's all it takes for Vanessa to start to cry again. Patton sways them back and forth gently, shushing her softly. Every now and again, he presses a consoling kiss to the top of her head.

"I'm here, Nessie. I don't know what's going on on your end, but I'm here, and I love you always and forever."

Vanessa sniffles. "Y-You don't mean that..."

"What? Of course I do!" Patton squeezes her tightly. "Honey, I love you more than anything. Except for your brothers, I love you all equally--"

"N-No you don't. The person y-you lo-ove? It isn't me." Vanessa avoids eye contact, and looks down at her hands, which lie uselessly on the desk, her vision clouded with her own tears.

Patton runs a hand through her short hair. "Yes it is, of _course_ it is. I love all of you, even the parts I don't know about. You're my daughter, I'll _always_ \--" Patton stops, as he hears Vanessa's breath hitch underneath him. He feels her chest stutter against his arm. He sees her flinch.

And then he gets it.

"Oh... Oh, I see." He says, his voice suddenly very quiet. "That's it, isn't it? You're not my daughter, are you?" He asks, tentatively.

Vanessa refuses to look at him, even through the mirror. She hesitates, before slowly shaking her head.

"You're my son." Patton whispers.

Vanessa lets out a heartbreaking sob, and shakes like a leaf in Patton's arms, shoulders sagging in shame.

"Oh, oh kiddo. There's no need to cry, this doesn't change a thing about how much I care about you. I'm so sorry if I made you think that it would." Patton lets go of his child's shoulders, and rounds to crouch beside the chair. "I still love you."

She-- _He_ lifts his head, looking at Patton through tear-clung eyelashes. "Always and forever?"

Patton nods, smiling as he feels tears of his own spring to his eyes. "Always and forever." He affirms.

\--

Logan is sitting in his homeroom class first period, nose buried in the pages of _Pride and Prejudice_ by Jane Austen. He's been working at it diligently for a couple of weeks now. But, today, he's feeling odd. His body feels like it's suspended in that moment of suspension on a roller coaster, in the moment right at the peak, before you descend down the most terrifying drop, where your stomach is floating and pushing up against your lungs, it feels like breathing just isn't an option, your brain is pushing back against your skull, and you can't decide if you're terrified or ecstatic. That's how Logan feels right now. As a result, he keeps losing his place, and having to start the damn page all over again.

He catches the sight of a familiar black and purple patchwork hoodie out of the corner of his eye, and sees his best friend entering the classroom. Vanessa looks exhausted, and as uncomfortable as Logan felt. Logan lifts his hand to wave, but Vanessa, instead of scouting out Logan as per usual, decidedly beelines for the teacher's desk at the front of the room, like she's trying not to talk herself out of something.

"Hello." Logan greets, when Vanessa finally drops into the seat next to his.

"Hey." Is the reply he gets, as Vanessa bounces her knee restlessly.

The teacher, at that moment, crosses to the front of the classroom, and begins his usual Friday morning ramble. He goes on and on about the bake sale, and how report cards are coming out at the end of the month, etcetera etcetera. Logan is used to this banter at this point, and it bores him to no end. He instead takes the time to tuck away his book, deciding to admit defeat. He's done trying to fight through this same page that he's been trying to get through for the past ten minutes.

"...Don't forget to submit your yearbook quotes to Ms. Howell before next Tuesday. If you don't, you won't get one in there at all, understood?" The teacher asks, not waiting for a response from the class, before he dusts off his hands. "Good. Now, with that out of the way, one of your classmates has something to say to you all before you head off this morning. Vanessa? The floor's yours."

Now _that_ has Logan's attention. He turns to his friend in surprise, but Vanessa doesn't look at him. His friend just stands, and silently walks to the front of the classroom like she's going to her grave.

She shifts on her feet, just as she always does when she's nervous, as she turns to face the other students. Her hands dig into the pockets of her oversized hoodie, and she tries to hide behind her bangs.

"Hi guys." Vanessa says, voice cracking. She flushes, and clears her throat. Just get it out. "I just, um, have something to tell you. It's not bad or anything it's just... well, uh, basically I'm trans."

\--

Silence. The room is dead. So quiet that a pencil dripping with a clatter to the floor would have felt earth-shattering.

The teacher is the first to find his voice. "I see. Well, that's alright, then. This is a safe space." He says, addressing his student, who feels like sinking into the floor at the front of the classroom.

"Is there something that we as a community can do to help you feel safe here? Maybe, a new name that we can call you?"

The student nods, he'd thought about this. He knew that they'd ask. Last night, after talking to his dad for a little while longer, he'd agreed to go downstairs. Patton had sat by his side, holding his hand as he came out to Emile, and his brothers. Emile's first reaction had been to tell him how much he loved him, of course. The twins, on the other hand, told him that they were excited to have a little brother around, and that if anyone gave him shit at school, they'd beat them up for him. They got a bit of a scolding from their parents, but it made him feel a lot better, surprisingly.

Afterwards, Emile had asked him a similar question. The high-schooler had responded with a question of his own. If he had been born a boy, what would they have named him?

"Virgil." He says.

The name almost echoes through the classroom. Suspended, like the moment before you descend the most terrifying drop on a roller coaster.

Then, there's a crash. A literal crash. It bangs through the room like a hurricane. Virgil's head whips up, to see his best friend Logan standing, chair toppled over behind him. He looks like he's just seen a ghost. He's pale, all the blood gone from his face, and he looks just as caught off guard as Virgil, as if his body had done it of its own accord.

"L-Logan?" Virgil stammers.

Logan is walking towards him now, hand tugging at the silver watch that he always wears, he tries to unclasp it as he gets to the front of the classroom. He knows that he won't be able to speak if he tries, so he doesn't. He just pulls off his watch with fumbling fingers, and his left hand reaches out to Virgil.

His friend takes it, tentatively, searching Logan's eyes for an answer to his unspoken questions.

Logan revolves his hand, slowly turning their hold over, revealing his wrist. The two look down in sync, neither even daring to breathe. He can read the writing there, even if upside down.

_Virgil_


End file.
